


I Like Playing With England, So I'm Not That Upset

by FrozenLakeBeast



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-24 01:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18159578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenLakeBeast/pseuds/FrozenLakeBeast
Summary: Ivan has always liked playing with Arthur and his odd little games. As they grow up, the games they play change.





	I Like Playing With England, So I'm Not That Upset

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a Secret Santa on DeviantArt and posted in 2014. I still really like it and wanted to post it here, too.

Ivan’s favorite time, out of any time of day or year, is easily playtime. When Ivan was younger, of course, Playtime carried a distinctly different connotation. That is, it _carried_ a different meaning, until a strange Brit moved in across the street and up the road a bit.

Ivan loved having Arthur around. Finally, a boy his own age! No more playing dress-up, or house, or with dolls! 

Still, though, Arthur was weird. He liked playing an odd sort of game, usually involving space, or angry old men, or pregnant cats, and _always_ involving Ivan eating something. He didn't mind at all, though! He liked it, and besides, Arthur had way better food in his house.

("Better" as in "better tasting", not "better for you"; the Kirklands could not cook for shit and as a result their kitchen held mostly pre-made and junk food. Ivan's kitchen had a lot of beets.)

Sure, they played other games, like catch and soldiers and cops and robbers, but Arthur's odd game always hung around.

Here is how it went: Arthur would set out food, describing everything that happened according to their session's story as Ivan ate. When the story dealt with space, for example,   
Ivan was a giant angry monster that ate first the world, then the solar system, and finally the universe, until nothing was left on the table. If Ivan stopped eating before the table was empty, he lost. He did not like losing, and would, as often as possible, push through it.

(Ivan grew a lot as a kid, up and out, and was glad he could peg the "out" on genetics and growth spurts, so they wouldn't have to stop the game.)

As they got older, their playtimes changed, a bit, edging more towards exploring each other after dark, and further from games governed by imagination in the backyard. Ivan likes these recent playtimes. They play all sorts of games now, where Ivan is tied up and forced to suck, or eat, or take Arthur, or, or where, sometimes, Arthur is tied and nothing is ever really forced, they both love it _so much_!

Sometimes dinner is a small affair, with just enough food, but often it’s a large thing, like when they used to play their games. Now, though, whether Ivan clears the table or not, he gets desert. Now, if he needs help, Arthur will help him, feeding him or rubbing his stomach. He is allowed to remove restricting clothes now, since they are no longer children whose parents may walk in on. Dinner usually leads to playtime, which either contains or leads to a few rounds of sex.

Ivan's _absolute favorite_ is when, when he is strapped in and tied up so that he can't move, and he's blindfolded and doesn't know if what's going in his mouth is food or cock but he loves it either way, and Arthur feeds him and prods him and is inside him and --! He feels so much pleasure and the sensations are too overwhelming and with a _burst_ and such a pleasing white out that leaves him breathless and _so full_ from two ends, and the leather of the binds digs into his flesh in an uncomfortably comfortable way, and he feels Arthur feeling _all_ of him, and it _is_ all _him_ , his flesh, his fat, his softness.

They like taking clothes Ivan has outgrown, sometimes. Sometimes playtime will consist of Ivan trying to stuff himself into old clothes while Arthur watches, or stuffing himself _while in_ old clothes, as a last hurrah to the buttons that struggle so valiantly (and in vain) to remain closed. They often get sidetracked, though. As it turns out, playing dress-up and watching someone play dress-up is a very easy way to get off.

Ivan does not know how much he weighs anymore, only that he is big. He doubts Arthur knows, either. He figures it doesn’t matter, as long as they play.


End file.
